


These cold hands of mine (fit perfectly in yours)

by sera_faye



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:23:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sera_faye/pseuds/sera_faye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa is in a band currently touring across the country. Clarke has one week to find her way to San Antonio for a friend's wedding. When she finds herself hitching a ride on the band's tour bus, Clarke has no idea what she's just gotten herself into. But really, what's the most that could happen in a week?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday (how it all began)

"Octavia, why does your brother feel the need to get married in San Antonio, of all places?" Clarke complained, resting her head in one hand. She was sitting in her bedroom at a desk next to Raven, staring at flight prices on the computer screen in front of her.

Raven snorted, her eyebrows raised at Clarke. "Yeah, why doesn't Bellamy just hold his wedding in our apartment instead of in the city where he lives? It'd be so convenient."

Clarke shrugged, "we're poor college students. He was one of us once; he should understand."

Octavia's brother, Bellamy Blake, was getting married to his fiancée Gina in a little over one week. With Bellamy being a long-time friend of theirs and Octavia his best man (or best woman) for the wedding, he was expecting them there. The three of them had originally planned to catch a ride with their friend, Miller, who was going to visit family in Austin. But Miller's car had been taken on a joy ride by a group of kids who had left it a burnt out husk on the side of the road. Now they were without a ride, and it would cost them almost $400 each for a flight from New York to San Antonio; money they just didn't have. They were, Clarke decided, effectively screwed.

"We should have booked earlier, as soon as we found out about Miller's car. The flights would have been cheaper," Clarke said, turning back to glare at the computer screen as though it were the one at fault.

"We didn't have the money earlier," Octavia pointed out. She was lying on her back on Clarke's bed, her head hanging off the edge to look at them upside down.

"We don't have the money now," Clarke muttered, mentally calculating in her head as to how they could afford the flights for all three of them.

"You could always ask your mum for a loan?" Raven suggested carefully, looking away from the computer screen to Clarke.

"There is no way in hell I am asking Abby for money. Besides," Clarke added, "you'd have more luck with her than I would."

"Guys," Octavia drawled from her place on the bed. Her face had started to turn red as all of the blood rushed to her head. "I have the perfect idea."

Raven and Clarke exchanged looks, knowing just how 'perfect' Octavia's ideas normally were. "Like that time you made us go to that weird energy healer because your Jujutsu instructor said it would help 'cleanse our spirit'?" Raven deadpanned.

"Or that time you talked us into spending all our food money on getting matching tattoos at that sketchy gallery, and we were stuck eating ramen noodles for weeks?" Clarke countered.

"And my tattoo got infected," Raven muttered under her breath, clearly still not over the event.

"We hitchhike," Octavia grinned at them, her eyes bright with excitement.

Clarke gave her an unimpressed look, "no way. We are not hitchhiking across the country."

"Oh, come on. It's the best option we have!"

"Sorry, O, but I'm actually going to agree with Clarke on this one. There have been way too many horror movies about hitchhiking, and I'm well aware that I'd be the first one to die if we were ever in a real-life horror situation. And let's be real; I am way too pretty to die."

Octavia frowned up at them, the expression almost looking comical with her face upside down. "You guys need to live a little."

"What are you even doing?" Clarke asked her finally, staring down at Octavia.

Octavia stretched her arms out to brush her fingers against the carpeted floor. "I'm meditating."

Clarke laughed, "I don't think that's how it's done, O."

"Indra said-" Octavia began, but was cut off by Raven.

"No more talking about your creepy Jujutsu instructor," Raven said. When Clarke raised her eyebrows at her, she shrugged. "What? She scares the shit out of me."

"That," Octavia said, finally sitting upright on Clarke's bed, "is why she is so freaking awesome."

"Every time we have to go to one of your martial arts competitions I feel like she's going to murder me with her eyes. And like I said before – I am way too pretty to die."

"Whatever," Octavia said, brushing aside Raven's remark. Her phone buzzed from the bed beside her, and Octavia looked down at it. A sly grin spread across her face. "Get dressed," she told the others.

"We are dressed," Clarke pointed out.

Octavia rolled her eyes, "then get changed."

She tossed her phone to Clarke, who looked down at the screen. It was an invitation to a show tonight featuring a band she only recognised because of the poster Octavia had stuck up on their fridge.

"We don't really have the spare money to be going out to shows, Octavia. Especially if we need to find a way to San Antonio," Clarke said.

"I can get us in for free," Octavia promised. "Trust me."

Raven, who had read the invitation over Clarke's shoulder, winked at her. "Buy me a drink, babe, and I'm totally there."

Octavia grinned back at her. "Then let's get changed. We're going out."

* * *

Clarke stood in the alleyway next to Raven, bouncing slightly on her feet and rubbing her fingers together. "It's fucking cold," she complained. "I should have dressed warmer."

"Yeah, but sometimes you've got to feel pain to look this damn good," Raven said with a wink, gesturing with one arm down her body.

The two girls were standing out the front of the venue where the show was to be played. There was a long line snaking out the door and passed them, but Octavia had told them not to line up. Then, without another word, she had disappeared.

"Come on, O." Clarke muttered, beginning to regret not wearing a jacket tonight.

Almost as if on cue, Octavia appeared. She looked out of breath and her cheeks were pink. "Let's go!" She grabbed Raven and Clarke by the hands and led them into the club. The doorman gave them a stoic nod as they passed.

"How?" Clarke shouted over the loud noise. Music was already pumping out of the many speakers, courtesy of a DJ on the stage.

"I know the drummer from the band playing tonight," Octavia said over her shoulder, her voice carrying to Clarke. "He got us in." Her answer only confused Clarke further.

Octavia led them over to the bar. Slipping her hands out of Clarke's and Raven's, she held up three fingers to the bartender. Three shot glasses appeared on the bar in front of them, filled to the top with vodka.

"Drink up, ladies," Octavia said, passing out the shots.

The vodka burned Clarke's throat as it went down. She coughed, her eyes watering. Octavia threw back her shot, already ordering another round from the bartender.

"How do you know this drummer, Octavia?" Clarke asked, turning down a second shot from her friend.

"We've been tweeting," Octavia said with a mysterious smile. She took Clarke's shot for herself and then led them over to a booth near the bar.

"Tweeting? Seriously?" Clarke asked dryly, sliding into the booth opposite Octavia.

"Is he cute?" Raven asked.

Octavia let out a breathy laugh. " _Fuck_ , yes."

The music stopped and silence descended over the club as three figures walked out onto the smoky stage. Screams and shouts began to fill the building. The band was about to start their first set.

"Wanheda!" A voice called out from the back of the club.

Octavia turned to them, her eyes dark with excitement. "They're starting."

* * *

Sweaty bodies were pressed up against Clarke in every direction. She let herself be jostled along with the crowd as the music blasted overhead. Though not normally having the same taste as Octavia in music (or anything, really), Clarke had to admit that the band, Wanheda, were good.

Clarke had lost Raven and Octavia earlier in the crowd. She had felt a spark of concern for Raven, but pushed it aside, knowing how mad her friend would be if she knew Clarke was worried about her. Raven could look after herself.

Clarke found herself being pushed to the very front of the crowd, directly in front of the stage. Looking up, she saw the band's guitarist right in front of her as the musician jammed out a mid-song solo. The guitarist slid to her knees on the stage as she amped up her solo. The girl's dark hair was braided away from her face, her bright green eyes surrounded in heavy black makeup that almost looked like war paint. Those same green eyes glanced up and locked their gaze with Clarke. It were only for a second, but it sent an electric surge through her. The crowd moved against her, pulling Clarke back away from the stage. Her vision blocked, she lost sight of the guitarist.

Clarke wasn't sure how long she was dancing in the crowd for. Sticky with sweat, her hair was stuck to her forehead. Her lips were chapped and voice hoarse from shouting out the lyrics with the crowd. She was aware she probably looked like shit right now.

The band slowly began to wind down their last set. The drums faded out with one last clash and the bassist, a tall woman with an angular face, stepped forward towards the mic to talk to the crowd. She thanked everyone for coming, her words almost drowned out by the loud screams from their fans. With one last cheer, the band left the stage, quickly replaced by the club DJ who once more started pumping out songs.

Clarke felt someone grab her by the hand and turned to see Octavia. The flushed and sweaty girl was grinning at her, barely able to contain her excitement. Her lips moved as she said something to Clarke, but her voice was drowned out by the song now playing.

"What?" Clarke shouted hoarsely.

Octavia shook her head and, with a tug of Clarke's hand, dragged her away from the stage. Confused, Clarke allowed Octavia to lead her through the club. She opened a side door that said 'STAFF ONLY' and pulled Clarke through into the room on the other side.

Clarke blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. She felt Octavia's hand leave hers as the girl moved across to the middle of the room, picking up a beer bottle from the table there. Popping the bottle open, Octavia took a swig of the drink and turned back to Clarke with a flourish. "Meet Wanheda."

With her eyes adjusted to the light, Clarke noticed that they weren't alone. Raven was there, sitting on a couch by the wall and nursing a can of rum. But she wasn't the only one. Sitting next to her on the couch was a tall dark-skinned man with huge tattooed arms. In his hands he was spinning two drumsticks; the drummer Octavia had mentioned. Sitting in the corner on an upturned crate was a tall woman, idly smoking a cigarette directly under a 'no smoking' sign on the wall. Clarke's gaze stopped on another woman lounging in a padded chair closest to her, fingers absentmindedly playing with a black guitar pick. Green eyes looked up at her and for a split second Clarke stopped breathing. Away from the smoke and darkness of the club, Clarke could see the guitarist properly for the first time, and god was she was beautiful.

The girl looked up at Clarke under heavy lidded eyes. "Lexa," she said, as way of greeting. With a wave of her hand, Lexa gestured to the man twirling drumsticks in both hands. "Lincoln."

The drummer, Lincoln, gave Clarke a crooked smile and an easy nod. Lexa had already moved passed him. Her hand gestured to the woman sitting in the corner on the upturned crate, a cigarette still dangling between two fingers. Her hair was braided in a similar fashion to Lexa's, and heavy makeup lined her face. "Anya," Lexa said. Her hand dropped back to her lap, her fingers playing with her guitar pick once again.

Clarke looked around the room, noticing that Octavia was now seated on Lincoln's lap, arms wrapped around his neck. Although this was the first time the two were meeting face to face, they had gotten friendly quickly. They were both laughing at something Raven had just said. Lexa, Clarke noticed, was watching her.

"I'm Clarke," she said, after an awkward pause.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Lexa asked her, the question sounding almost formal and rehearsed. There was an edge of tiredness to Lexa's voice.

"Yes," Clarke said. "It was great."

"Fuck yeah it was!" Octavia fist pumped from her seat on Lincoln's lap.

Lincoln grinned at her, "this girl has great taste."

"You know what, Lincoln? I'm actually going to have to agree with you there," Raven said begrudgingly. When Octavia began to mock celebrate by waving her beer bottle in the air, Raven held up one hand in warning. "This is a one-time exception, O. Your taste is generally terrible, but tonight was a good idea."

Clarke and Lincoln laughed loudly, and Clarke even noticed Anya send a small smile their way. They were interrupted by the door swinging inwards once again, flooding the room with loud music before it swung shut.

"That was an amazing set, guys. I think we have really locked down our sound."

Hearing a familiar voice, Clarke turned around. "Monty?" She asked, shocked.

The young man who stood there, messy black hair falling in front of his brown eyes, gaped at her. "Clarke?" He crossed the space between them in seconds and pulled her into a hug. Looking passed her, he noticed Octavia and Raven. "You guys are here too?"

"We're being groupies," Raven said wryly.

Octavia rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Clarke asked, reaching out with one hand to fondly touch his arm.

"I'm their sound guy," Monty said, a grin plastered on his face.

"A damn good one at that," Anya nodded at him from her corner of the room. "He makes us sound great."

Monty looked down at his feet, cheeks beginning to redden.

"How do you know each other?" Lincoln asked curiously, looking between the four of them.

"We went to high school together," Octavia said with a familiar smile at Monty.

"I haven't seen them since graduation," Monty said. He walked over and sunk down into the last empty chair.

"Did you and Jasper end up going to Michigan together for university?" Clarke asked, leaning against the table in the middle of the room.

Monty nodded, "yeah, and we both got jobs with these guys after we graduated."

"Wait," Octavia sat up. "Jasper's here too?"

"Yeah," Monty said with a grin. "He's helping out with the band tour."

"We had no choice but to bring Jasper along," Lincoln said, lips twitched into a smirk. "Monty made it clear he was part of the package deal."

Everyone laughed as Monty looked down at his feet once more, his cheeks almost perpetually bright red by now. Turning, Clarke noticed for the first time that Lexa had disappeared from the room.

"Where is Jasper?" Raven asked.

Monty shrugged, "visiting Maya, his girlfriend. She lives here in New York and they don't get to see each other often." Reaching forward, he grabbed a water bottle off the table and twisted the cap. "So, what's new?"

"Bell's getting married in a week," Octavia told him.

Monty gaped at her. "No way! Your _brother_?"

Raven smirked at him, "yeah, who would have guessed that Bellamy would be the first one to settle down?" Her gaze drifted over to Clarke, "I had my money on you and Wells, to be honest."

Clarke rolled her eyes at her. "Well, you definitely would have lost that bet. Anyway, we don't even have a way of getting to the wedding."

"What wedding?"

Clarke turned to see Lexa had returned to the room. She had removed most of her makeup, a move that took away some of the hardness from her face. It also revealed the tiredness etched there.

"What wedding?" Lexa repeated, a tinge of frustration in her voice at being ignored.

With a start, Clarke realised everyone was waiting on her to answer. "Our friend, Bellamy, he's getting married in San Antonio in a week."

"And what is the problem?" Lexa asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"We, uh," Clarke looked back at Raven and Octavia for support, feeling completely flabbergasted in front of this woman and not knowing why. "We don't really have a way of getting to San Antonio."

Lexa stood silently for a moment, her gaze appraising Clarke. "There are many forms of travel, Clarke," she said finally.

Lincoln suddenly spoke up from his seat on the couch, "our tour takes us right through San Antonio." He looked at Octavia, "you guys could hitch a ride with us. We can make space on the bus."

Octavia quickly glanced at Raven and Clarke, the anticipation and excitement evident on her face. "Clarke?" She asked, when Raven just shrugged at her.

"Would that be ok?" Although Lincoln had offered, Clarke found herself directing her question to Lexa. Clarke had a feeling that it was Lexa that had the final say so in these matters.

Lexa was silent for a moment. Her eyes flickered over every single person in the room, finally settling once more on Clarke. "Alright, Clarke," she said. "We will get you and your friends to this wedding in time."

With a loud whoop, Octavia sprung off Lincoln's lap. "We're going to San Antonio!" She raised her beer up to her lips, a flash of disappointment crossing her face when she realised it was empty. "We need shots," she said, looking down at Raven.

Raven waved both arms in the air in agreement, taking up Octavia's chant. "Shots, shots, shots!"

Octavia headed towards the door, Raven cheering her on from the couch. Noticing the way Octavia was slightly unsteady on her feet, Clarke made to follow her friend to the bar. Before she could leave the room, a voice called out her name. A hand reached out and stopped her with a gentle touch to the shoulder. Clarke turned around.

"Lexa?" Clarke asked, confused.

Lexa stopped, as though she were suddenly unsure of her actions. "We always have an after-party following a show."

Clarke didn't say anything, wondering instead why this woman was having another party when she looked like all she wanted to do was sleep. Her silence seemed to frustrate Lexa more.

"You should come," Lexa said, the words drawn out slowly. She looked at Clarke, brows furrowed. Her face was an expression of conflict, as though she secretly hoped Clarke would say no.

Instead, Clarke smiled. "Ok."


	2. Saturday (the hunt for coffee)

When Clarke opened her eyes, for a moment she didn't know where she was. Sunlight was streaming in through a window, the curtains not quite closed all the way. There was a sudden lurch of movement and Clarke was rolled off the bed she had been lying on and onto the floor.

"Oomph," she muttered. Lying on the floor for a moment, she stared up at the ceiling. Her head was pounding, her mouth dry. With a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and made her way over to the window. Instead of closing the curtains, she pulled them back, wincing as the bright sunlight assaulted her eyes.

Clarke was moving. The landscape of trees and roads outside the window was flashing by as they hurtled along a highway. Her mind was foggy with confusion for a moment before she remembered; she was on the tour bus. The band were letting her, Octavia and Raven hitch a ride with them to San Antonio for Bellamy and Gina's wedding.

Clarke's recollection from last night was hazy. She vaguely remembered being dragged back to their apartment to pack their bags for the wedding. She had flashes of belting out Taylor Swift with Raven and their taxi driver, as Octavia had clapped her hands over her ears to try and block out the "shitty mainstream pop" noise. They had then returned to the club where the party had been in full swing. Octavia had passed her shot after shot until her lips were numb and she could barely stand. She barely remembered getting to the tour bus, which had been packed with people drinking and partying. A memory surfaced in her brain of Clarke wrapping her arms around a shocked Lexa, plastering sloppy kisses against the woman's neck while Raven and Lincoln catcalled and whistled at them. Clarke cringed, desperately hoping that hadn't happened. She reminded herself that she would be spending the next week with these people who were basically strangers to her. She couldn't be embarrassing herself on the first night.

Hearing a low groan, Clarke turned back towards the bed. It wasn't actually much of a bed, she realised, and more of a small futon piled high with blankets. One of the blankets moved and Raven's head peeked out.

"The hell are the curtains open for?" Raven muttered, glaring at Clarke through squinted eyes.

"Time to get up," Clarke moved over to sit on the edge of the futon, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. "I need coffee and food, preferably the 'greasy and really bad for you' kind."

That got Raven's attention. "Breakfast?" She pushed herself up and looked at Clarke, "help me with my brace."

"What am I, your lady-in-waiting?" Clarke quipped, helping Raven secure the brace on her leg. Ever since Raven's accident in middle school, she had suffered from paralysation in her left leg. The brace had been the only chance she had to walk again, though the chronic pain from the accident had never left her. But Raven had never let that get in her way. If anything it had made her more ruthless and determined to meet every single goal she set for herself. She was dauntless. It was one of the many things Clarke admired her for.

Raven scoffed at her. "That sounds far too fancy. More like my personal slave."

Clarke gave her an unimpressed look, holding out one hand to help Raven to her feet. "I hate you."

Raven gave her hand a squeeze, smirking. "Nah, Griff. You can't deny the love you have for me." A wave of discomfort washed over Raven's face and she pressed a hand to her forehead, eyes squeezed shut. "Oh, god. Oh, fuck. How much did I drink last night?"

"A lot?" Clarke suggested, aware again of her own pounding headache and nausea.

"A lot," Raven echoed. She opened her eyes and looked back at Clarke. "Food?"

Clarke nodded in agreement. "Food."

* * *

"Mornin' sleepyheads," Lincoln called out to Clarke and Raven as they walked out to the front section of the tour bus. He was sitting in a bench seat by the window, pouring over sheets of music.

Raven merely grunted in response.

"She's a lively one," Lincoln said with a laugh.

"How are you not hungover?" Clarke asked suspiciously, taking in his bright expression and easy smile.

Lincoln shrugged at her, "I don't drink."

"Do you have any food around here?" Raven interrupted, staring around the bus.

"We'll be stopping in about fifteen minutes. You can get breakfast then. Or, well, lunch," Lincoln smirked at them.

Clarke turned to stare out a window, realising that it must be later in the day than she thought.

"In the meantime," Lincoln reached down to grab a packet of potato chips out of the bag sitting by his feet. "Here," he tossed it to Clarke. "Breakfast of champions."

Clarke looked down at the packet in her hand. Her stomach churned with nausea. With a shake of her head, she passed the packet to Raven who immediately opened it and began shoving chips into her mouth.

Clarke moved over to sit on the bench seat in front of Lincoln. She turned in her seat to face him, "where's O?"

"Octavia? Taking a nap," Lincoln said. He paused, his cheeks reddening. "We, uh, didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Raven gave a low whistle. "That's my girl."

Clarke looked around the bus. In contrast with last night, or what she could remember of last night, the bus was starkly empty. It was also relatively clean, a fact which surprised her. After last night, someone must have spent hours cleaning up the mess.

Clarke found herself thinking about a woman with dark hair and green eyes. Scanning the bus, she noticed Lexa's guitar propped up next to a grey rucksack covered in patches and scrawled sharpie messages. The guitarist was nowhere to be seen. She tried again to remember what had happened last night. Had she embarrassed herself? The memory of her kissing the guitarist surfaced in her mind again. Had she thrown herself at Lexa?

"Where's Lexa?" Clarke winced internally as the words left her mouth, wondering if she could be any more obvious. "And everyone else?"

Lincoln gave her a knowing look. "Lex is up with the driver. The others are all still sleeping off hangovers. Lexa and I are really the only morning people here."

"Gross," Raven quipped. She made her way over to them and sank down onto the bench seat next to Clarke. "So, got anymore chips?"

* * *

Clarke stood outside the door leading to the driver's cabin. She moved her weight from foot to foot, chewing on her bottom lip. Lexa was on the other side of that door. Why was that making her nervous? She rolled her eyes at herself and, before she could change her mind, pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The driver, a big burly tattooed man with a grizzled beard, was sitting behind the wheel. Hearing someone enter, he raised one hand in greeting but kept his eyes on the road.

"Company," the driver said to the woman by his side.

Lexa was sitting cross legged in the passenger seat, a book in her lap and a cup of steaming coffee nursed in one hand. She looked back towards the door, one eyebrow raised when she saw who it was. "Good afternoon, Clarke."

"What time is it?" Clarke asked, stepping forward. She held onto the back of Lexa's chair as she stared out at the highway in front of them.

Lexa eyed her critically for a moment, her gaze flickering from Clarke's hands and back to her face. "It is almost 1:30pm," she said finally, as she turned back to her coffee and book.

"Lincoln said something about stopping soon?" Clarke pressed. The smell of Lexa's coffee was enticing. Clarke's stomach growled loudly and she cringed.

The driver chuckled. "We'll be stopping for food and gas in a few minutes. Then it's straight onto Washington DC. The guys have a show there tonight."

Clarke gazed down at Lexa but the other woman was looking down at the book in her lap, her eyes staring pointedly at a fixed spot on the page.

Clarke couldn't understand Lexa. She had agreed to let Clarke and her friends catch a ride with the band and now she was acting as though she couldn't stand the sight of her. Sure, the other girl didn't exactly have what you would call a warm and inviting personality, but the way Lexa was acting now made Clarke feel as though she had done something wrong. With a sigh she turned and left, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

"You are acting strange, _Leksa_."

Lexa closed her book. She bought her steaming cup up to her lips and took another sip of coffee. "I don't know what you mean, Gustus."

The driver, Gustus, laughed. The laughter boomed out from his chest; it was a happy sound. "Come, now. I've known you since you were a teenager. I see when you are not yourself." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, a smile on his lips. "You like this girl, this Clarke."

Lexa dug her fingers into her cup, feeling the warmth heat her hands. "No, I don't." When Lexa saw as Gustus began to shake his head in exasperation, she shrugged. "Clarke is," a pause. "Nice."

"You like her," Gustus nodded to himself, as though the matter were now solved. "Otherwise she and her friends would not even be here."

Lexa rolled her eyes and turned to stare out the passenger window. She did not like Clarke. She couldn't. After all, she had only just met the girl. Clarke _was_ nice, but that was all. She certainly didn't make Lexa's head spin or her palms feel clammy. She didn't give her butterflies as though she were still a schoolkid. She didn't find herself lying awake in the middle of the night, wondering what Clarke's lips would feel like against her own; what she would taste like. She certainly didn't press her fingers to her neck, remembering the heated kisses Clarke had placed there. Things were finally starting to look up for the band. In the last few months alone they had made waves in the music industry, gaining everyone's attention. She couldn't afford distractions, and Clarke was the very definition of one. She didn't have time for feelings. She could not abide weakness; not again, not ever.

"Have you kissed her yet?" Gustus asked, his voice interrupting Lexa's thoughts.

Lexa groaned in frustration, getting up from her seat. "I'm leaving."

"Yes," Gustus nodded with a grin. "Go spend time with Clarke."

Without looking back at him, Lexa flipped him off. The sound of Gustus' booming laughter followed her as she left the driver's cabin.

* * *

"Coffee, coffee, coffee. Where _are_ you?" Clarke was bent over, rummaging through bags and papers in the front section of the tour bus. Raven had disappeared, most likely to get changed, and Lincoln had left to wake Octavia. Clarke was taking advantage of the brief moment of solitude to hunt for a caffeine fix. Lexa had found coffee somewhere and Clarke was determined to find it too.

"What are you doing?"

Clarke froze and spun around. Her stomach clenched when she saw who it was. "Lexa, hi."

The other woman eyed her suspiciously. "Looking for something?"

"Yes," Clarke nodded, then paused as she realised she had been caught rifling through other people's belongings. "This is not what it looks like."

Lexa raised one eyebrow at her, waiting silently for an explanation.

"I need coffee," Clarke blurted out. "You had some and well, I was looking for it." Clarke could've sworn she saw the ghost of a smile on Lexa's face, but it was gone in seconds.

"You couldn't have just asked me?" Lexa asked. She was holding the empty cup of coffee in her hand, her book tucked under one elbow.

"Um," Clarke trailed off, thinking about the way Lexa had looked at her when she had walked into the driver's cabin. Like Clarke was the last person Lexa had wanted to see. She could definitely not have asked her for coffee.

"Anyway," Lexa said with a small shrug. "The bus is out of coffee."

Clarke's eyes dropped down to the empty cup in Lexa's hand. Lexa followed her gaze. "I have a secret stash," she explained shortly.

"Oh," Clarke said, disappointment colouring her voice as she resigned herself to a caffeine-free day.

Lexa looked at Clarke silently for a moment, taking in her pale face and the dark lines underneath her eyes. Placing her book and empty cup down on one of tables, she stepped passed Clarke. "Follow me."

Lexa led Clarke down the middle of the bus to the makeshift 'hallway' lined with bunk beds. On the way, they passed Lincoln and Octavia walking in the other direction. Octavia pulled Clarke into a quick hug and pressed a messy kiss against her cheek. "Best. Idea. Ever."

Clarke laughed under her breath, watching as Octavia let go of her and followed Lincoln to the front of the bus.

Lexa was standing ahead, waiting for her by the very last bunk bed. Monty was lying in one of the top bunk beds. Lexa eyed him for a moment, noting the large headphones that covered his ears, blocking him out from the rest of the world. Satisfied he wasn't paying any attention to them, she dropped down onto her heels by the bottom bunk bed. She rummaged around between the mattress and the wooden planks of the bed before pulling out a small metal tin.

Curious, Clarke walked over in time to see Lexa pop the tin open. At the sight of the small bag of coffee hidden inside, Clarke could have kissed Lexa. She reached out for the bag with one hand, but stopped when the bus made a lurching movement.

"I think we're here," Lexa said.

The tour bus had rolled to a stop. Before Clarke could ask where 'here' was, Lexa spoke again. "Hungry?" She asked, looking up at her.

In response, Clarke's stomach rumbled loudly. A soft chuckle left Lexa's lips. This time, Clarke knew she hadn't imagined it. Lexa had smiled.

* * *

"I'll have a cup of coffee, toast, eggs and bacon. Oh," Octavia added, glancing down at the menu in her hand again. "Pancakes too, please."

Everyone from the bus was seated in a diner, ordering their long-awaited food. Jasper, who had finally joined them sometime this morning, was sitting next to Monty at the front of the table.

"Jesus, O." Raven said, giving Octavia a look from across the table. "Just how hungry are you?"

"I worked up an appetite last night," Octavia said slyly, giving Lincoln a quick glance.

Raven leaned forward, one arm raised in the air, and high-fived Octavia. "I am so proud of you right now."

Lincoln cleared his throat awkwardly as he passed his menu back to the waiter. "I'm right here, guys."

His response sent Raven and Octavia into peals of laughter.

"Just embrace the fact that you are one fine piece of meat, Linc." Octavia smiled at him, reaching up to press a kiss against his cheek.

Clarke was staring down at the menu in her hand, the words blurring together. She couldn't focus, constantly finding herself stealing looks at Lexa sitting across from her. The other woman was tracing invisible patterns on the top of the table, her head resting in one hand. Now and then Lexa would look up and accidentally lock eyes with Clarke. Each time, her eyebrows would furrow and she would quickly glance away. With a sigh, Clarke looked back down to her menu, trying to decide on what her stomach could handle.

"Everyone ordered?" Gustus' voice boomed down the table.

"Clarke hasn't," Lexa said quietly.

Startled, Clarke looked up. "Um, just pancakes and coffee for me, thank you." She passed her menu down the table. The waiter jotted down her order on his pad, grabbed the menus and walked off.

"Thanks," Clarke said to Lexa, a small grateful smile on her face.

Lexa shrugged, before turning her gaze back down to the table top.

Clarke found herself wanting to apologise. The way Lexa was treating her, she must have embarrassed the woman last night with her drunken antics. But there was no chance to do so, not with everyone around. Clarke was beginning to realise that when on tour, privacy was a luxury.

Their food began to arrive and conversation started to ebb. Octavia, completely surrounded by her many plates, was shovelling food into her mouth at such a fast pace that even Lincoln looked impressed.

"Pancakes?" The waiter had returned, holding up one plate of hot pancakes. Lexa and Clarke raised their hand at the same time.

"Yes, here please," Clarke said, stopping suddenly when she realised Lexa had ordered the same thing. "Oh, um, she ordered first."

The waiter placed the plate in front of Lexa, who was staring at Clarke with a neutral expression.

"Thank you," Lexa murmured to the waiter, her eyes still on Clarke.

Another waiter came by and dropped a plate of pancakes in front of Clarke. Grateful for the distraction, Clarke picked up her knife and fork and began cramming food into her mouth. Her stomach groaned in protest, but she ignored it.

As she gulped down her (much needed) coffee in between bites, Clarke's thoughts were still on Lexa. She needed a moment, just one moment, for when she could sit Lexa down and apologise for whatever it was she had done. Her, Octavia and Raven were going to be travelling with Lexa and the band for a week. She didn't want to risk the chance of further pissing Lexa off, potentially causing the woman to have a change of heart and kick them out on the side of the road.

Clarke got that opportunity far sooner than she expected.

There was a scraping noise, and Lexa pushed her chair back. "Bathroom," she said shortly, when Anya looked up at her curiously over a pair of black sunglasses perched on her nose.

Clarke waited until Lexa disappeared into the ladies bathroom, then quickly pushed her own chair back. Heat spread across her cheeks when she noticed Anya watching her as she followed Lexa into the bathroom.

When Clarke entered the bathroom, the only working stall was occupied. She was only waiting a few moments before there was the sound of a toilet flushing and the stall opened. When Lexa saw her standing there, leaning casually against the wall, her eyes widened for a split second.

"The stall is free," Lexa said, her mask of neutrality sliding back into place. She stepped passed Clarke to wash her hands at the sink.

"Actually, I wanted to talk with you," Clarke said.

Lexa paused. She switched off the tap and then walked over to the paper dispenser next to Clarke. Pulling a sheet out of the dispenser, she dried her hands. Crumpling the paper and tossing it in the bin, Lexa finally turned to Clarke. "What do you wish to talk about?"

"Have I done something to offend you?" Clarke asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Her arms were crossed over her chest defensively.

Lexa paused, her lips parted. Whatever she had expected Clarke to say, this had not been it. "I don't know what you mean."

"Last night," Clarke clarified. "Did I do something to embarrass you?"

"It's nothing that I can't deal with," Lexa said, her eyes moving to a spot on the tiled wall next to Clarke's head.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Clarke began. "I remember kissing you last night and-"

Lexa held up one hand to silence her. "You kissed my neck, Clarke. You were drunk."

"That's no excuse," Clarke began, but Lexa continued as though she had not spoken.

"You were enjoying yourself. You did not do anything to 'offend' me."

"Oh," Clarke said, suddenly more confused than ever by Lexa's attitude towards her. "That's… good, then."

Lexa seemed satisfied that their conversation was over and made to move towards the bathroom door, but Clarke couldn't stop herself from talking. "You didn't seem very happy with my attention last night."

"You were drunk, Clarke," Lexa said again, frustration beginning to colour her tone. "I would never take advantage of someone in an inebriated state."

"You were drinking too," Clarke pointed out, vaguely remembering Lexa accepting a shot of rum from Octavia.

"Yes," Lexa agreed shortly. "But between the both of us, it is obvious that I am the only one here who can hold her liquor."

With that, Lexa pushed passed her, leaving Clarke standing dumbstruck in the bathroom.

* * *

After eating their meals everyone had piled back into the bus. Monty and Jasper had disappeared, heads ducked over a piece of paper they were scribbling on. A quiet bald man, who had been introduced as the band's manager, Titus, had walked down the middle of the bus. He had already pulled out his mobile phone and was making calls, something he had been doing all day.

Raven had pulled a pile of university textbooks out of her bag, much to Clarke's surprise.

"The grind never stops, Clarke," she had muttered darkly, headed towards the backroom where she and Clarke had slept last night.

They were close to Washington, Gustus had told Clarke before he headed to the driver's cabin. They would be there soon, where they would stay the night in a hotel before continuing on the next morning (Clarke was already daydreaming about showers). Octavia, Raven and Clarke would have a few hours of freedom while the band prepared for their show tonight. Lincoln had made it clear to them that they were welcome to watch them play.

"You'll be in the VIP section," he had said with a wink.

When the bus started up again and pulled out of the diner's car park, Clarke was surprised to find herself alone. She was seated at the front of the bus in one of the bench seats by the window, a spot usually occupied by Lincoln. Her fingers itched and Clarke found herself wishing she had bought her sketchbook along. She would even have been happy catching up on her study like Raven, if only she had her textbooks here. Judging by the (rather random) things she had packed, drunk Clarke, however, had not had the same mentality.

Hearing movement, Clarke turned her head to see Lexa appear. She looked surprised at seeing Clarke there, and hurriedly made her way to the front of the bus towards the driver's cabin. At the last moment she hesitated, and instead slid into a bench seat on the opposite side of the bus. Clarke watched her silently for a moment before turning back to the window.

There was a tapping noise, and Clarke looked to see that Lexa was fidgeting with her guitar pick. The woman was using it to tap out a beat on the table in front of her. Clarke sighed, looking away. The awkwardness was stifling, but she wouldn't leave. Besides, she had been here first. She also wasn't going to make a move to talk to Lexa, not after what had happened in the bathroom at the diner.

Clarke was staring out the window, watching the scenery fly by when Lexa walked over to her. Watching Clarke cautiously, she slid into the seat next to her. For a while, she didn't say anything, instead staring out the window with Clarke.

"Are you coming to the show tonight?" Lexa asked her, finally breaking the silence. "I overheard Lincoln invite you and your friends."

"Oh," Clarke said, turning to look at her. "I'm not sure." It wasn't exactly truthful, Clarke knowing that Octavia would most likely force her to come tonight whether she wanted to or not.

Lexa's expression changed slightly, and Clarke was surprised to see the woman almost looked disappointed.

"Probably," Clarke continued. "If Octavia has her way."

Lexa looked down at the top of her thighs, nodding to herself. "Your other friend is very astute with her study."

"Who, Raven?" Clarke laughed. "Yeah, she's the very definition of determined. We keep each other in line."

Something about what Clarke had said seemed to pique Lexa's interest. She dragged her gaze away from her thighs and back to Clarke. "Are you studying as well?"

"Yeah, medicine," Clarke answered. The day she found out she had gotten into medical school had been one of the very few times Abby had seemed to be genuinely proud of her daughter.

"That is very impressive, Clarke," Lexa said.

Clarke looked at Lexa with suspicion in her eyes, trying to gauge whether or not she was making fun of her. It was, after all, the first compliment Lexa had given her.

As though she had read Clarke's thoughts, Lexa gave her a soft smile. "You must have a great mind."

For a moment Clarke had no words, seeing nothing but authenticity in the expression on Lexa's face. "Thank you," she murmured.

There was a moment of silence, and then, "I was harsh with you earlier on, Clarke, in the diner."

Clarke looked at Lexa, waiting for her to continue.

"I was," Lexa paused, "tired. These last few months have been exhausting. Although that is no excuse. I am sorry."

Watching her, Clarke had a feeling that Lexa wasn't telling her the real reason. Still, she decided not to press further. It was only a week until they would be in San Antonio. Clarke could deal with Lexa and her moods for one week. It wasn't like she had an alternative.

"It's fine," Clarke said as she turned back to the window, effectively dismissing Lexa. She heard the other woman get up from her seat but never looked back. Lexa left her in peace, and silence descended on Clarke again.

* * *

Gustus looked up at her as Lexa entered the driver's cabin. The door to the cabin had not been closed all the way, and he had heard every word of her and Clarke's conversation. He opened his mouth, most likely to ask questions about Clarke, but she interrupted him.

"Not a word, Gustus," Lexa said in warning, sliding into the passenger seat. "Not a word."

* * *

Clarke was right; Octavia had dragged her to the show tonight. Raven, she was surprised, was just as keen on going as Octavia was.

"I _need_ a break from study, Clarke," Raven had complained.

"You were studying for like an hour, Raven." Clarke had countered, but Raven had merely ignored her.

Clarke, Octavia and Raven were now standing in the VIP section, looking out over the club from their perch on the balcony. Octavia had already made an embarrassing Lion King reference, holding her beer bottle in the air as though it were a baby Simba. The entire tour bus crew were with them, even a phone-free Titus, much to Clarke's surprise. The band had just finished their set and were making their way up the stairs to meet the others.

"That was fantastic!" Lincoln burst out, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from Octavia. "Did you hear the crowd? They were going crazy!"

Octavia laughed, letting Lincoln pick her up in his arms and spin her around. "We heard, Linc, trust me!"

Jasper and Monty jumped up onto one of the tables, beers in hand as they began to chant the band's name. "Wanheda! Wanheda!"

Seeing Lexa, still in her stage 'war paint' as Anya called it, Clarke stepped away from the balcony. She wobbled slightly on her feet. Octavia and Raven had been plying her with whisky shots (she had lost count after five) and Clarke had begun to feel quite buzzed. With the alcohol in her system making her feel confident, she made her way over to a surprised Lexa.

"Great set," Clarke said, internally cringing. 'Great set'? Now she really did sound like a groupie.

"Thank you," Lexa said carefully as she walked over to the bar, Clarke following behind.

Clarke stood close to Lexa, their shoulders touching. She bit back a smile as she noticed how stiff the other woman was standing at having Clarke so close to her.

"Water," Lexa said to the bartender.

Her voice was soft, Clarke noticed, but it somehow easily carried over the noise of the club.

Lexa twisted the cap off the bottle the bartender handed her, taking a long drink of water. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she turned slightly to face Clarke. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead and neck. Clarke had a wild thought of pressing her lips to that smooth neck again. She tilted her head towards Lexa and pressed her face against the crook of her neck. The alcohol, Clarke conceded to herself, was probably affecting her more than she thought.

Lexa froze. "You have been drinking, Clarke," she said, sounding concerned.

"Yes," Clarke agreed, her voice muffled against Lexa's neck. Even after playing an hour long and sweaty set, Lexa still smelled amazing. "But I'm not drunk."

"Clarke," Lexa began. "I will not take advantage of you like this-"

Clarke lifted her head, looking Lexa directly in the eye. "Then let me take advantage of you."

Before Lexa could even respond, Clarke kissed her, and for a moment it were as though the world stopped.


	3. Sunday (the avoidance game)

Lexa was avoiding her. It was the kiss, Clarke knew. In a moment of drunken brilliance (or stupidity, she hadn't quite decided yet) Clarke had kissed Lexa. This time, on the lips. But Lexa was avoiding her, and Clarke couldn't understand why that knowledge hurt her as much as it did.

On one hand, Clarke knew that Lexa avoiding her meant six Lexa-free days. Which meant that she would be able to travel along with the band stress-free, not having to worry about what she would do or say to offend the woman next.

Then there was that strange aching feeling in Clarke's chest whenever she thought of Lexa. Those green eyes had the power to paralyse her. She felt drawn to the woman, in ways that she hadn't felt in a very long time, if ever. Clarke found herself wanting to be around her, if only to see just what it took to pull a smile from those perfect lips.

But Lexa was avoiding her.

"Maybe she just doesn't like you?" Octavia suggested. "She's nice to everyone else."

The three girls were sitting in the back room, squeezed up together on the futon. Octavia and Raven had quickly noticed that something was up with Clarke and had forced her to explain.

"But why?" Clarke complained. "It's not like I've done anything to her."

"Well, you did kiss her," Octavia said, biting back a grin. "Maybe you're just a really bad kisser?"

Raven snorted, "I can attest to the high quality of Clarke's kissing skills." She turned to look at Clarke, an apologetic look on her face. "I guess she just doesn't like you, babe. Sorry."

* * *

"You are avoiding her."

Lexa pulled her eyes away from the book in her lap to look at Gustus. She was sitting in the passenger seat in the driver's cabin, and they had been seated in comfortable silence for over an hour. She had been looking forward to getting some quiet reading done today, knowing that it would be a long drive to their next stop; Charlotte NC.

"Are you my therapist now, Gustus?" Lexa asked, a small smile on her lips.

"No," Gustus said, his tone serious. "I am your family. Why are you avoiding a girl who could make you happy?"

The smile slid off Lexa's face. "She's just Clarke. She doesn't make me happy."

"She could," Gustus countered. "I see the way you look at her when you think no one is watching. She is not 'just Clarke'." The large man looked down at Lexa, almost hesitating with his next words, as if knowing the pain they would cause the young woman. "I have not seen you look at anyone like that since Costia was still-"

"Don't," Lexa said, her voice low. "If you start talking about her I am leaving. I would prefer not to lose my reading spot."

Gustus looked at her in silence for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. "Don't shut yourself away. You cannot avoid Clarke forever."

"Yes, I can." Lexa said. "It's not forever, it's only six more days. I can handle six days."

* * *

"So, what's up with you and that Clarke girl?" Anya asked, idly strumming away on her bass.

Lexa narrowed her eyes, looking up at Anya over her book. She had finally left the cabin, driven out by Gustus' constant heavy sighs and loaded gazes.

"Have you been speaking to Gustus?" She asked suspiciously.

Anya stopped strumming for a moment to give Lexa a confused look. "What? No."

"Then why do you ask about Clarke?" Lexa placed her book down on the table, focusing her attention on her band-mate and life-long friend.

"I saw you kiss last night at the club," Anya said with a shrug, turning back to her bass. "Didn't know you guys were sleeping together."

"We're not," Lexa flushed, and hated herself for it. "Anyway, she kissed me."

"Whatever, Lex," Anya said. "I really don't care who you keep company with."

Lexa had picked up her book once more, trying to slow the pounding of her heart to focus on the words in front of her, when Anya spoke up again.

"Just," the older woman trailed off, choosing her words cautiously. "Be careful, ok? It was hard enough putting you back together the first time."

Lexa could only nod in response.

* * *

"I am fairly certain you aren't allowed to do that," Clarke said, raising an eyebrow at Jasper who had just swapped out two of his cards for fresh hand-picked ones from the deck.

"Totally can," Jasper said. "It's in the rule book."

"The rule book that is conveniently missing?" Raven deadpanned, giving Jasper and Monty a scrutinising look.

"You know, Raven, if I didn't know better I would start to think that these guys are cheating," Clarke said, narrowing her eyes at their playing companions. So far, Monty and Jasper had easily beaten her and Raven at every game, and Clarke was beginning to get suspicious.

"Hey," Monty held up his hands in mock surrender. "It's just Rummy. We couldn't possibly be cheating at Rummy; everyone knows the rules."

"I'm 99% positive that you guys are making up your own rules," Clarke said, eyes still narrowed.

The look Jasper and Monty exchanged spoke volumes.

"Yeah," Raven tossed her cards down and stepped up from the table the four of them had been playing around. "I'm so out."

Clarke jumped up to follow her.

"Oh, come on, guys. Stick around and play with us," Jasper groaned. "It's still hours until we reach Charlotte."

Raven gave him a suggestive grin, "why don't you go play with yourself, Jasper?"

He scowled at them as the girls walked away, heads tilted back in laughter.

* * *

Lexa stared down at her book, faintly aware that she had read the same line over and over again. Sighing, she closed the book shut and placed it in her lap. Anya was still seated on the bench seat across from her. The bass was propped up against her but it had been forsaken in favour of an iPod, the headphones sitting snuggly in her ears.

Laughter reached Lexa's ears. Turning her head in the direction the sound was coming from, she saw Raven and Clarke walk into the room, arm in arm. It was only the second day of their drive to San Antonio and Lexa was already failing at avoiding Clarke.

Clarke slowed down when she spotted Lexa, looking unsure of herself. Raven walked over to sit next to Anya, who offered her an earbud.

Lexa watched Clarke out of the corner of her eye. The other woman was staring at her. She looked conflicted, as though arguing internally over something. After a moment, Clarke visibly squared her shoulders and marched over to Lexa. She slid behind the table to sit next to the other woman, but Lexa noticed that she was careful to keep some distance between them.

"Hi," Clarke said.

Lexa didn't say a word, merely raising one hand slightly off her book to give Clarke a half-hearted wave.

"What are you reading?" Clarke asked her.

Lexa held the book cover up, allowing Clarke to read the title.

"Crimes and Punishment," Clarke read slowly, as if that were the last thing she had been expecting. "You guys have the night off tonight, right? No shows?"

When Lexa didn't respond, Anya answered Clarke for her. "Yeah, we don't really play any shows on a Sunday."

"Any plans?" Clarke asked.

Anya looked between Clarke and Lexa before answering. "I don't know," she shrugged. "We'll probably go out to get food after we arrive at the hotel, at least. Lex?"

If looks could kill, Anya would be dead right now. Lexa knew it was a calculated move on her friend's part, purposely drawing her into the conversation with Clarke.

"I hadn't thought about it," Lexa said stiffly, still glaring at Anya.

"Have you played a show in Charlotte before?" Raven asked. She was bopping her head slightly to whatever song it was that she and Anya were listening to.

"Once," Anya said. "Back when we were first started the band."

Lexa stared down at her lap, her fingers twisting together. She was still avoiding looking directly at Clarke. She could feel her heart pounding almost painfully against her ribs. Her palms had begun to sweat. "Get a hold of yourself," she muttered quietly under her breath.

Clarke must have heard her. "What?"

In response, Lexa sprung to her feet. "I- I have to tune my guitar." She stalked out of the room, book tucked under one elbow. It was as she left the others behind that she heard Clarke speak, a mix of frustration and despondence evident in her voice.

"She really does hate me."

* * *

They stopped for lunch and supplies in Richmond. Clarke found herself standing outside the tour bus with Raven, Lincoln and Octavia, as the four of them tried to agree on a place for lunch. She was wearing a thick coat, her hands shoved into the front pockets to try and keep warm.

"Guys," Clarke pointed out, "we don't have long."

They only had less than an hour for lunch, and Clarke also wanted time to stock up on coffee. She hadn't had any this morning (the bus was still out of supply) and, with the way Lexa was acting, she wasn't going to ask to use her secret stash.

Raven wrapped an arm around Clarke, pulling them tight together. Resting her head on Clarke's shoulder, she mumbled in her ear, "I vote we leave these two to their arguing."

Octavia and Lincoln had not been able to agree on a lunch spot. Octavia wanted burgers. Lincoln wanted sushi.

"Clarke is right, Octavia," Lincoln said exasperatedly. "We don't have time for this."

"So then let's get burgers," Octavia shrugged.

"Sushi would be much faster," Lincoln countered, not backing down.

"Lincoln," Octavia said, looking up at him, "do you remember that thing I did for you last night with my-"

" _Octavia_!," Lincoln growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her a few more feet away from Clarke and Raven, who were suddenly very interested in their conversation.

"Well, if you ever want me to do that again," Octavia trailed off, leaving the words unspoken.

They got burgers for lunch.

* * *

"What thing, O?"

They were back on the tour bus now, heading towards Charlotte. Raven had been itching to get Octavia away from Lincoln to ask about what she had said earlier. She finally got her chance when the three of them had retreated to their usual spot; the futon in the backroom.

"Or if you like," Raven continued, one eyebrow arched suggestively. "You could show me instead?"

Clarke rolled her eyes as Octavia laughed.

"You don't have the right body parts for me to do that, sorry Raven." Octavia said. She moved over to lie across the two girls, forcing Clarke and Raven to shuffle around on the futon to accommodate her. With her legs swung over Clarke and her head in Raven's lap, she looked up at her childhood friends.

Raven shrugged, "we could improvise."

"You need to get laid, Rae," Octavia quipped.

Raven gasped in mock offence, "I'll have you know I'm getting it on the regular, thank you."

"Wick?" Clarke asked her. "Are you guys still-"

"Doing our thing? Yeah," Raven said with a smirk. "He's useful for that, at least."

Octavia raised her hand up in the air for a high-five, which Raven quickly obliged.

"You know what we haven't talked about in a while?" Octavia asked Raven suddenly. "Clarke's love life."

Clarke groaned.

"My favourite subject," Raven said with a laugh, leaning her head on Clarke's shoulder affectionately.

Octavia and Raven were being sarcastic, of course. Clarke's love life had consisted of break up after break up, her relationships, while lasting a long time, had always ended for one reason or another. But her numerous relationships and the subsequent heartbreak that followed had meant that Raven and Octavia had spent many a night together with Clarke and a bottle of vodka, laughing and crying together.

"Got your eye on anyone, Griffin?" Raven asked.

"She likes Lexa," Octavia said in a sing song voice, grinning up at them from Raven's lap.

"She _loves_ Lexa," Raven said, dramatically placing one hand over her heart. "She wants to _bang_ Lex-" She broke off in a squeal of laughter as Clarke roughly bumped her shoulder up, jolting Raven's head off her resting place.

"And Lexa hates Clarke," Clarke finished for them. "The end."

"That certainly got a reaction," Octavia noted.

Clarke glared at them, "I hate you both."

"And we love you," Raven said, pinching Clarke's cheek. "Even if you do look like a grumpy toddler right now."

Octavia dissolved into laughter while Clarke sighed in frustration, leaning away from Raven's grasp.

"I just don't get it," Clarke complained. "Am I not attractive?"

Raven turned slightly to face her, jostling Octavia's head around in her lap. "Babe," she said, pointing at Clarke, one eyebrow arched. "You know that I'm straight, but if I was into that, _I'd be into that_."

"Thanks, Raven," Clarke said dryly.

"Anytime," the other girl said with a wink. "So, I guess the impossible has happened."

"What?"

"Someone just isn't into our princess."

* * *

Clarke thought Lexa hated her. Clarke thought she _hated_ her. Lexa squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead. She was lying on a top bunk in the tour bus and, as it was these days when she found herself alone, her thoughts had turned to Clarke.

_She really does hate me._

The words had been a steady mantra in her head for the last hour. Lexa groaned.

A quiet voice in the back of her head piped up, saying that maybe it _was_ better if Clarke thought Lexa hated her. Maybe Clarke would stop trying to force a conversation between them if that was what she believed. It would make avoiding the other woman significantly easier.

But the voice was drowned out by the steady mantra of the five words Clarke had uttered.

_She really does hate me._

Lexa's stomach twisted into knots. Why did it matter if that was what Clarke thought? Why did Lexa _care_ so much? She rolled over onto her side, staring at the wall in front of her. They would be in Charlotte soon. Then it was only five more nights until the tour bus would roll into San Antonio. Five more nights until Clarke and her friends would leave.

That was a good thing, Lexa tried to tell herself. Clarke would no longer be around to distract her. She could focus all of her attention on the band. The thought sounded hollow in her mind. Lexa couldn't understand why this girl had such an effect on her. It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel this way. Why now? Why Clarke?

"She's just Clarke," Lexa said out loud to herself. Somehow, it didn't make her feel better.

* * *

The tour bus arrived in Charlotte just as the sun was setting. The sky was on fire with streaks of red and orange, painting the perfect backdrop behind the city. When they reached the hotel they would be staying at for the next two nights, Clarke was one of the first ones off the tour bus.

Jumping off the bus, she stretched her arms over her head with a loud satisfied groan.

"Dry land!" Raven was right behind her, gingerly keeping her weight of her left leg. "Oh, I could kiss you."

"Oh, please. It's barely a five hour drive from Richmond to Charlotte. You haven't even begun to know misery, Reyes." Anya hopped off the tour bus behind them, a duffel bag in one hand.

"They're groupies," Jasper said with his arms stretched out theatrically, standing on the bus step behind her. "Unused to the ways of the touring band."

"I will punch you," Raven warned. "Don't think that I wont."

"Come on, Rocky," Clarke said with a laugh, sliding an arm around Raven's waist. "Let's get our rooms sorted."

The band and crew then filed their way into the hotel, milling around the lobby. Titus squeezed his way to the front of the group to begin animatedly talking with the receptionist. Clarke and Raven hung back, waiting to receive their room key (it also gave Clarke a great view of the back of Lexa's head). The crew had waved aside Clarke, Octavia and Raven's earlier offer to pay for their own rooms, with Titus informing them that the band had requested it be covered.

"We added your expenses to the tour budget under 'groupies'," Lincoln had told them with a laugh (and, as Clarke discovered later, he hadn't been joking).

After being given their key card and room number, Raven and Clarke made their way up to their room, following behind Anya.

"This is us," Clarke mumbled with difficulty, the key card gripped between her teeth, as she stopped outside room 112.

"We're meeting for dinner at seven," Anya called back to them as she continued her way down the hotel hallway.

"Buy me a drink tonight, Anya?" Raven called out to her, grinning widely.

"In your dreams, Reyes," Anya said with a chuckle, stepping into the room five doors down from them.

Raven gave Clarke an incredulous look, the grin wiped from her face. "Did you hear that? That was rude, that was."

Clarke, with her hands full and the key card in between her teeth, could only shrug at her.

"Come on, come on, come on," Raven muttered, crowding anxiously behind Clarke. "Let's get this door open, Griff."

Moving her bag and coat to one hand, Clarke grabbed their key card from her mouth. "Just hang on a second," she muttered, awkwardly sliding the key card into the lock and opening their hotel room door.

The second the door was open, Raven barged through. "Oh baby, come to mama," she dropped her bag by the door, already making her way hurriedly to the bathroom. "I call first dibs on the shower!"

Clarke dropped her coat and bag next to Raven's and collapsed face first onto the bed closest to her. "Don't take too long," she grumbled into the pillow.

Raven didn't answer, pretending to not have heard Clarke. The door to the bathroom closed and a moment later the sound of running water reached Clarke's ears.

Clarke looked over at the digital clock on the bedside table. The numbers 18:12 blinked back at her. Clarke sighed. They were meeting Octavia and the others for dinner in less than an hour. Clarke started to wonder if Lexa would be there, but stopped herself. She didn't care if Lexa was there, she told herself. Lexa obviously wouldn't care whether or not Clarke was there.

 _Actually_ , a small annoying voice told her, _she wouldn't want you there. She hates you, remember?_

Clarke pressed her face deeper into the pillow, groaning. She simply lay there for awhile, trying to think about anything other than Lexa. Raising her face slightly off the pillow, she opened one eye to glance at the clock. It was half past six. Clarke could still hear the sound of running water.

With an annoyed huff, Clarke rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. She pounded her fists on the door, "Raven, hurry up! I want to shower before dinner."

There was no response. "Raven?" Clarke called out again, forehead leaned against the door in defeat. Faintly, she could hear the sound of Raven singing to herself.

Clarke let out a long, drawn-out sigh. Maybe she could skip the shower. She lifted up one arm to sniff herself. Never mind, she _needed_ a shower. Vaguely, Clarke remembered that Anya was only a few doors down from them. She could ask to use her shower. Clarke hesitated, wondering who Anya was sharing a room with. Was it Lexa? Rolling her eyes at herself, she grabbed her shower bag and a towel folded neatly on her bed and left the hotel room.

"I'm leaving!" She called out to Raven before shutting the door behind her.

Clarke walked down the hallway before stopping in front of room 117. She was fairly positive this was the room Anya had walked into. She also knew that the entire crew from the bus were all staying on the same floor, so she had a decent chance of it being someone she knew.

Clarke rapped her knuckles on the door, gripping her towel and shower bag in one hand. She heard movement on the other side of the door and it was flung open.

"Hey, Clarke."

It was Anya.

"Can I use your shower?" Clarke asked. "Raven is hogging ours."

Anya gave her a nod, stepping aside and letting Clarke through. Closing the door behind her, she walked passed Clarke and sat down on one of the beds. "Bathroom is through there," she said, pointing with her chin towards a door on the other side of the room.

Clarke looked around the hotel room, her eyes landing on a grey rucksack sitting at the foot of the second bed. It was Lexa's, Clarke knew. She would recognise that bag anywhere.

"Lexa isn't here," Anya said, her gaze following Clarke's.

"Oh," Clarke said, feeling her cheeks get hot. "I wasn't- I mean I don't- I'm going to go shower." She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, but not before seeing the knowing smile on Anya's face.

* * *

Lexa hadn't shown up to dinner. Everyone else had been there (Clarke knew; she had scanned every single face looking for the woman). Clarke told herself it wasn't related, but somehow she found herself not enjoying dinner as much as she were expecting to.

"Are you ok, Clarke?"

Clarke realised that she had been stabbing her steak rather violently. She gave Monty a small smile, "I'm just tired."

Great, Clarke thought to herself. Now she was using the same excuses as Lexa.

"Early night tonight, then?" Monty suggested.

"No way!" It was Jasper, making his way back from the restaurant bar with a rum and coke in each hand. "You're on the Wanheda tour bus, Clarke. You have to make the most of it!" He dropped down onto his seat on the other side of Monty and turned to face her. "If you're in bed before midnight I will come into your room and drag you out of there myself."

Clarke rolled her eyes at him, "you don't even know which room I'm in."

"You're in room 112 with Raven," Jasper said smugly.

"Right next door to me and Jasper," Monty told her happily.

"How do you-?" Clarke trailed off.

"Jasper books the accommodation," Monty explained, taking a bite of his risotto.

"So I should be thanking you for paying for our rooms?" Clarke joked.

"Actually," Jasper said, waving his fork at Clarke. "That was Lexa." Turning back down to his plate, Jasper missed the shocked expression on Clarke's face.

"What?" She asked.

"Lexa asked Titus that we cover all of your expenses and shit while you're on the tour bus."

"Lexa?" Clarke asked, still in shock. "The same Lexa we are travelling with?"

Jasper exchanged a confused look with Monty. "Uh, yeah, Clarke. The groupie thing was my idea though," he added with a grin.

Raven, who had just begun to eavesdrop on their conversation, threw a balled up napkin at his head. "I am _not_ a groupie," she said with a huff.

"But I am?" Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Raven shrugged, "you're a Lexa groupie."

"Shut up," Clarke hissed at her, noticing that some of the others were beginning to pay attention to their conversation.

In response, Raven blew her a kiss.

"And Octavia?" Monty asked her.

"Obvious Lincoln groupie."

"Hey!" An offended voice called out. A napkin flew down the table, landing in Raven's bowl of half-eaten pasta.

"Thanks, O," Raven said sarcastically, fishing the napkin out daintily between two fingers. She bunched the soggy napkin into a ball before tossing it in the direction it had come from. A gasp told her it had hit the intended target.

Clarke grinned to herself, watching as a disgruntled Octavia flicked the dirty napkin away from her. As she shared a loud laugh with Raven, Clarke realised that she really did have the very best friends in the world.

* * *

Lexa sat on her bed in her and Anya's hotel room, leaning back against the headboard. A notebook lay open in her lap, the pages covered in lines of neat cursive.

When Lexa had told Anya she wouldn't be joining them for dinner, the other woman hadn't said anything. Before leaving, Anya had lingered in the doorway to their hotel room for a little longer than necessary, her eyes on Lexa. Her gaze had made Lexa uncomfortable, almost as if Anya could see right through her. When the hotel room door closed and Lexa found herself alone she had let out a shaky breath.

Lexa had told Anya that she merely wanted some time alone to work on a new song she had been writing for the band. Anya hadn't asked for a reason as to why Lexa didn't want to come to dinner, but she had felt the need to give one. If only to convince Anya that she wasn't staying behind to avoid a certain blonde, blue-eyed woman from room 112.

It hadn't exactly been a lie. She was, after all, working on a new song. Lexa had just decided to conveniently omit the fact that she had already finished it.

Staring down at her notebook, Lexa realised she had scrawled Clarke's name on the side of the page. She snorted, closing the notebook shut and tossing it aside on the bed. Getting to her feet, Lexa stretched her arms above her head, her eyes seeking out the digital clock on the bedside table. It was almost midnight. She found herself wondering if the others were still out at dinner. She had heard the occasional person wander down the hallway outside but hadn't gone outside to check who it was.

Lexa looked over at the empty bed opposite her. Anya hadn't returned yet. Knowing Anya as well as Lexa did, she knew the other woman wouldn't be in bed for hours yet. She wondered what Clarke was doing right now. Was she even wondering where Lexa was? Or had she met someone new? Was she pressing her lips against their neck, against their mouth?

"Stop it," Lexa growled to herself. Grabbing her notebook, she unzipped her rucksack sitting at the end of her bed and roughly shoved it inside. A leather wallet fell out of her bag. Reaching down, Lexa picked it up. Before she could stop herself, she flipped the wallet open. A face Lexa knew just as well as her own stared up at her.

" _You_ would think I am being a complete idiot right now," she muttered ruefully to the photograph. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears and she folded her wallet hurriedly, shoving it and the painful memories it brought to the bottom of her bag.

Arms stretched out, she fell backwards onto her bed. She laid there for a moment, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. She focused on her breathing, trying to clear her mind of thought. Maybe tonight would be the night she would sleep properly, without being disturbed by hazy and distorted dreams.

Lexa's eyes sought out the clock again and her stomach gave a weird jolt. It was midnight. One more day had passed. One whole day of avoiding Clarke. They would arrive in San Antonio in five days. Lexa sighed to herself. "Five more days," she muttered.

Lexa could handle five days.

* * *

Clarke didn't get it. She never had to spend this much effort getting someone to like her, let alone _talk_ to her. A flutter of her eyelashes, a low throaty laugh and a soft touch was usually all it took to turn someone into putty in her hands. Somehow, Lexa was immune to her charms.

But Clarke wasn't one to give up easy. In fact, she thrived on a challenge. One more try, she told herself. She would make one last effort to get Lexa to like her. If that didn't work then the other woman obviously didn't know what she was missing out on.

"Her loss," Clarke grumbled to herself. Swinging out of bed, she stopped by the mirror to fix her hair. It was just a habit, she told herself (she certainly wasn't doing it for a certain brunette in room 117). Steeling herself, she crept out of her hotel room, shutting the door behind her quietly so as to not wake up Raven who was sound asleep in the other bed.

It was late, Clarke knew, but she didn't care. If Lexa was going to avoid her then Clarke would come to her, even if it meant barging into Lexa's hotel room in the middle of the night. She padded down the hallway in bare feet, her eyes scanning each door as she passed them.

"114, 115, 116," she counted the numbers aloud, if only to fill the silence of the empty hallway.

The door to room 117 opened before she could even reach it. Lexa stood in the doorway, a towel slung over one shoulder and a water bottle in one hand. The other woman was dressed in gym shorts and a tank top, as though she were preparing to visit the hotel's 24/7 gym (it was well after midnight, but Clarke wasn't one to judge). When Lexa looked up and locked eyes with Clarke, she froze.

Determined, Clarke took a step towards her. She parted her lips, the woman's name on her tongue.

"Lex-"

The door to hotel room 117 swung shut with a slam that echoed down the hallway. A hallway in which Clarke stood in shock, very much alone.


	4. Monday (a song about a girl)

"Wake up."

The blankets were ripped off her and Lexa groaned as she was exposed to the cold air. "What the hell, Anya?" She curled up into a ball on her bed, the pillow held over her head.

"Get up," Anya said, grabbing Lexa's last defence from her and throwing the pillow to the floor.

"What is this?" Lexa grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"This is payback for every other time you've woken me up this way," Anya said with a nonchalant shrug, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's completely unnecessary," Lexa complained, slowly sitting up on her bed. "I'm not a heavy sleeper, unlike you." She stared blearily at the clock on her bedside table, trying to make out the numbers blinking at her. "What time is it?"

"Almost 7am. I thought you'd be awake by now, early bird," Anya answered, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Lexa had slept terribly, unable to get the thought of Clarke standing in the hotel hallway out of her head. She had finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep only a few hours before dawn. Rubbing her eyes, Lexa gave Anya a once over. The other girl was already dressed, sporting ripped jeans and a fur-lined jacket.

"You look good, considering," Lexa said, breaking off with a yawn.

Anya arched an eyebrow at her, "'considering'?"

"Considering the time you stumbled back into our room last night."

Anya had returned to their hotel room after midnight. She had tried to be quiet but, unable to see in the dark room, had ended up tripping over a light cord and falling heavily and noisily to the ground. Swearing loudly, she had got to her feet only to fall over a pair of Lexa's boots strewn across the room.

Anya gave her an incredulous look. "Are you seriously complaining about that? Because I didn't say a word when you woke me up later on by slamming our room door."

Lexa blushed, staring down at her bare feet. She curled her toes against the carpet, her mind on Clarke. Not able to sleep last night, she had planned on visiting the 24/7 hotel gym. She had hoped a workout would exhaust her enough to finally fall asleep. What she hadn't expected, however, was to see Clarke standing outside in the hallway. She had panicked. The memory still made her cringe with embarrassment.

"Get dressed," Anya picked up Lexa's rucksack and tossed it at her. "We're going out for breakfast."

* * *

Clarke was rudely awakened by something heavy falling on top of her. Startled, her eyes opened to a blur of messy brown hair. Octavia was sprawled out on top of her, using Clarke as an impromptu bed.

"Octavia," Clarke groaned, still half asleep as she pushed at her friend. "Heavy. Get off."

Octavia gave a low moan in response. "Tired," she muttered.

"You and Lincoln get busy last night?" Raven asked, peering out from the blankets on her bed to grin at them.

"No," Octavia grumbled, moving around on top of Clarke to press her face against the woman's neck. Octavia let out a huff, her breath warm against Clarke's skin.

Clarke gave up at trying to push her off with a sigh of defeat.

"Trouble in paradise?" There was movement, and Raven crossed the room to join them on Clarke's bed.

Clarke gave out a loud groan at the extra weight on top of her. "Killing me here, guys."

Raven reached over Octavia to pat Clarke on the cheek, mouthing "you love it" at her.

"Lexa has him working on some new song she wrote," Octavia said, answering Raven's question. "He's been up all night at it in our room."

At this, Clarke perked up. "Lexa wrote a song?"

Octavia shrugged, "she writes most of their material, apparently."

"But what was this one about?" Clarke pressed. Her annoyance at being used as a bed by her two best friends had suddenly disappeared.

"I don't know," Octavia mumbled. "Ask her yourself."

At that, Clarke snorted. Somehow, she didn't think asking Lexa about anything, let alone a song she had wrote, was an option for her.

* * *

"Blueberry pancakes?" The waiter held up a steaming plate of stacked fluffy pancakes, drizzled in syrup and ladled with blueberries.

Lexa, who had been sitting quietly in her seat, dwarfed in an over-sized hooded sweater, perked up at the smell wafting down to her.

"Her's," Anya said, gesturing towards Lexa.

The waiter set the plate of pancakes down in front of Lexa, whose mouth immediately began to water. She went to pick up her fork and knife but paused, looking up at Anya suspiciously. "You are buying me breakfast."

"Yes," Anya said, accepting her cup of coffee with a nod of thanks to their waiter.

"You are buying me my favourite breakfast."

Anya nodded.

"What do you want?" Lexa asked, brows furrowed.

Anya placed her cup of coffee on the table in front of her before answering. "We are going to talk," she said. "Actually, first I'm going to talk and you are going to listen. And I know you wont leave until you've eaten those pancakes, so I figure I've got about fifteen minutes to say what I need to."

"Ten," Lexa warned, already picking up her fork and knife and cutting into her pancakes.

"I can work with that," Anya said. She sat in silence for a moment, watching Lexa eat. "How long have we known each other for now?"

Lexa paused, a piece of pancake skewered on her fork hovering inches from her mouth. "Is this a rhetorical question or have you actually forgotten?"

"Rhetorical," Anya said shortly. "The point is, I've known you since you were practically in diapers. So, I think I have the right to call you out on your idiocy when I notice it. And Lexa? Right now? You're being an idiot."

With her mouth full of pancake, Lexa could only give Anya an affronted look.

"You're acting like an idiot because you're afraid of getting hurt-"

Lexa swallowed her mouthful of pancake in a rush, "I'm not afraid-"

"What did I say about you listening and me talking?" Anya said loudly, drowning Lexa out.

Lexa sighed and begrudgingly motioned for the other girl to continue.

"Ever since Costia, you've put up walls to keep everyone out. I see the way you punish yourself, as if it were your fault she's gone." Anya paused, taking a sip of her coffee. "Which is bullshit, by the way. No one could have stopped what happened."

"Anya," Lexa began tersely, gripping her knife and fork so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

"No," Anya said, holding one hand in the air. "I know that it hurts to talk about her, Lexa, I _know_. But you have to hear this," she placed her hand back down on the table, fixing Lexa with a steady gaze. "I love you, kid, more than anyone. I will always protect you, even if that means protecting you from yourself."

"I don't need you to protect me," Lexa muttered, hating how childlike she sounded.

Anya snorted. "Yes, you do. I know you like Clarke. I know that she could make you feel something that you haven't felt since Costia. Clarke makes you happy."

"It doesn't matter," Lexa said quietly, placing her knife and fork down on her plate. "She'll be gone in a few days."

"Then you have to make the most of it," Anya said with a shrug. "Stop punishing yourself. Let yourself feel something, even if it's just for a few days. Let yourself be happy."

Lexa was quiet. She stared down at the remains of her breakfast, somehow not feeling hungry anymore. Her chest was tightening uncomfortably, her heart beating a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

"Lexa," Anya said, her tone soft. "What's the harm in allowing yourself to have some fun, for once? We'll be in San Antonio by Friday. After that, you don't even have to see Clarke again if you don't want to. What do you have to lose?"

Lexa looked at Anya, mulling her words over in her mind. Anya was right, she knew. After Friday, who knew if she would see Clarke again? The thought did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest. She had begun to dread Friday, having become accustomed to Clarke staying on the tour bus (and her friends, though she would never admit it). Lexa realised that she didn't want to say goodbye to Clarke. She had just found this girl; she wasn't ready to lose her.

Instead, she said, "you're right. I have nothing to lose."

* * *

The sun had already risen by the time Clarke had showered and left the hotel. Rugged up in her coat and with her bag slung over her shoulder, she had found herself walking aimlessly down the street. She hadn't walked long before arriving at a cafe, drawn to the warmth and promise of caffeine inside like a moth to the flame. Clarke had found herself feeling at home in the small and cozy cafe, with it's friendly baristas, low hanging ceiling and crackling fireplace. She sat at a table by the window, head propped in her hand as she stared at the street outside. It was still early morning and the city was just beginning to wake up. People flocked passed the window, faces tucked behind scarves and takeaway cups of coffee clutched in gloved hands. As she watched the scenery outside, her fingers began to itch for her sketchbook again.

On the table in front of her, next to an almost empty cup of coffee and the remains of her breakfast, her cell phone vibrated loudly. For a moment, Clarke merely ignored it and continued to stare out the window. Lost in thought, she almost didn't notice a familiar baggy sweater rush passed outside, the hood pulled up in an attempt to protect the wearer from the cool morning wind. Before she could think on it further, her cell phone vibrated again, reminding Clarke of her unread text.

Grabbing her phone off the table, Clarke gave a small sigh when she saw who had sent it.

Abby: Clarke, I saw on Octavia's Facebook page that you were in Washington on the weekend. Why did you not visit me while you were here?

Clarke couldn't help it; she sighed again. She wanted to be mad at Octavia but couldn't. It wasn't her fault that Clarke's mother had taken to stalking her friends' social media accounts for updates on her own daughter's life.

"Is something wrong, Clarke?"

Clarke looked up to see Lexa standing over her, lithe frame dwarfed in a baggy sweater. The woman's cheeks were still tinged with pink from the cold air outside. Clarke wasn't sure if she imaged it, but Lexa almost looked concerned.

"It's nothing, just Ab- my mum," Clarke gave her a wry smile. "You know how they can be."

Lexa didn't say anything. She looked down at the seat next to Clarke. "May I?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." Clarke grabbed her bag off the seat, placing it on the table and making room for Lexa.

"Are you looking forward to your friend's wedding?" Lexa asked, taking a seat.

"You were avoiding me yesterday," Clarke said instead, watching Lexa closely to see her reaction.

"I was," Lexa said simply. "I thought you might be embarrassed after kissing me the other night."

Clarke's eyes narrowed. She knew that wasn't the reason. _Clarke_ hadn't been the one to break the kiss. _Clarke_ hadn't sat on the opposite side of the club from her, watching her all night. _Clarke_ hadn't been to the one to treat her as though she had leprosy. _Clarke_ hadn't been the one to slam her hotel room door in Lexa's face.

"Stop lying to me," Clarke said, almost surprised by the hard edge to her voice.

Lexa started, her eyes widening for a split second. Clarke wondered if anyone had ever called her out on her bullshit before.

"Yes, you're right," Lexa said finally. "That wasn't the reason."

"Do you even like me?" Clarke asked.

"You are a very nice person, Clarke," Lexa responded evenly.

"That's not what I mean."

Lexa watched her for a moment, her eyes tracing a pattern from Clarke's eyes to her lips and back again. Just as Clarke was about to turn away, resigned to the other woman's silence, Lexa leaned towards her. She hesitated just for a moment, when their faces were mere inches apart, as though to give Clarke a chance to back away.

Clarke closed the distance between them.

The kiss was chaste, almost innocent. Lexa's lips were as soft as Clarke remembered them to be. Her movements were gentle, as though Clarke were made of glass and Lexa afraid to shatter her. Just as Clarke began to feel herself melt into the kiss, Lexa moved away.

"Does that answer your question, Clarke?"

"I think I'm more confused, actually," Clarke said, taking a deep breath to try and slow her rapidly beating heart.

Lexa laughed and Clarke felt her chest swell with happiness. Unable to stop it, an unbridled smile stretched across her face. "I like your laugh," Clarke said.

Clarke was rewarded with a smile that reached green eyes. They looked at one another for a moment, comfortable silence falling over them. It was broken by the sound of Clarke's cell phone vibrating loudly on the table in front of them. Lexa's eyes snapped towards the phone and Clarke reached out with one hand to pick it up.

Another message from Abby. Clarke sighed.

When Lexa gave her a questioning look, Clarke offered her a strained smile, "it's just my mum again."

"Do you not have a good relationship with her?" Lexa asked carefully.

Clarke played with the straps on her bag, needing a moment to gather her thoughts; needing a moment to choose the right words. "No," she said finally. "It's complicated, I guess you could say."

Clarke expected Lexa to ask why, like everyone always did, but she didn't.

"Do you miss her?" Lexa asked instead. Her voice was so soft and gentle that Clarke felt the threat of tears burn in her eyes. A lump lodged itself in her throat.

"I think I miss who she used to be, before my dad-" Clarke trailed off, realising that she was about to share something that she wasn't ready to; not yet, at least. She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump. "What's your mum like?"

Lexa's eyes drifted down to look at Clarke's fingers, still fidgeting with her bag. "I never knew my mother," she said simply, as though they were discussing the weather.

"I'm sorry," Clarke said quietly, immediately hating herself for it. How many times had others said those two words to her before in a time of grief? How many times had they made her want to scream and hit something in response?

Lexa gave her a small smile but this time it didn't reach her eyes. Her gaze was still fixed on Clarke's hands. Questions bubbled up in Clarke's mind but she restrained herself, realising that this was probably something that Lexa couldn't share yet either.

"Talking is hard," Clarke said.

"Talking is hard," Lexa nodded in agreement.

Clarke sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, her teeth lightly gnawing on the soft flesh as though feeling for the shadow of Lexa's kiss. She searched her mind, trying to find a lighter topic of conversation. With Lexa apparently now talking to her, she found herself not wanting their conversation to be over.

"Tell me about the band," Clarke said.

"What would you like to know?" Lexa asked.

"I don't know, who does what?" Clarke flushed, realising how stupid her question made her look. She had seen the band play twice now; she knew what each of them did.

Lexa, thankfully, didn't comment on it. "Well, you know that Lincoln is our drummer. He also produces most of our songs," Lexa said.

Clarke nodded. Lincoln was always pouring over music sheets or fiddling on his laptop.

"Anya plays bass and keys and is our main vocalist."

"And you?" Clarke asked.

Lexa looked at her then, one eyebrow slightly raised. "I play guitar, Clarke." She said the words slowly, as though explaining a simple concept to a child.

"I know that," Clarke said hurriedly. "But do you play any other instruments?"

"I can play keys and the violin," a wry smile tugged at Lexa's lips. "Not that our music utilises the violin. I also write the majority of the band's lyrics."

"But you don't sing them?"

"No," Lexa said with a slight shake of her head. "I do backup vocals when needed."

There was something about the way she had responded and her tone of voice that made Clarke feel as though Lexa was hoping she would change the subject. Clarke decided not to press, not wanting to potentially cause Lexa to start avoiding her again. Rather, she found herself wanting another opportunity to kiss her.

"Pretty impressive," Clarke said.

"Do you play an instrument?" Lexa asked her.

"I mean, I wasn't going to say anything to make you feel inadequate, but," Clarke threw Lexa a teasing grin, "I'm a pro on the recorder."

For the second time that morning, Lexa laughed. To Clarke, it was the best sound in the world.

* * *

When Lexa and Clarke had returned to the bus, they had found the crew in a state of frenzy. They were packing up and preparing to drive down to the amphitheater, their venue for the show that day, for sound check and rehearsal. Clarke had decided to trail along to help them with setup. Lexa had tried to convince her otherwise ("you will be bored, Clarke, trust me") but Clarke wouldn't hear it. Lexa had decided against arguing with her, and the tour bus had left the hotel parking lot, transporting the band and crew to the venue.

"Shit," Lexa swore under her breath. She was sitting cross legged on the amphitheater stage, an amplifier in front of her that she was currently hooking up to her guitar.

"What is it?" Clarke looked over her shoulder at the guitarist. She was standing in front of Lexa at the edge of the stage.

Lexa puffed out her cheeks, glaring at the amplifier. Realising Clarke was waiting for an answer, she gestured angrily at the device in front of her. "It's not working. I don't know if it's the jack or the cables or-" she broke off with a sigh of frustration. "It was working fine at our last show."

"Well," Clarke said, trying to be helpful. "Do you have a spare?"

Lexa nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. "Yeah, it should be on the bus. Monty will know where it is."

Looking out from her place on the stage, Clarke spotted Monty across the grass. He was standing with Lincoln and Jasper, unloading more equipment off the tour bus. Clarke cupped her hands around her mouth. "Monty! We need," she paused mid-shout, turning to look back at Lexa. "Wait, what was it called?"

"Amplifier," Lexa said, still glaring at the device in question.

Clarke turned back around to shout out to Monty, "an amplifier!"

He raised his thumb in the air, letting Clarke know that he had heard her.

"There," Clarke said, turning back to Lexa. "Crisis averted."

From her place on the stage floor Lexa smiled up at Clarke, feeling her frustration ebb away when the other woman smiled back.

Monty made his away across the grass towards the amphitheater. He walked over to them on the stage, lugging an amplifier in one hand. "Here," he said, placing it carefully down onto the floor next to Lexa. "Try this one."

"Thanks, Monty," she said, switching the cords out and plugging her guitar into the new amplifier.

He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, facing out towards the grass in front of the stage. "Do you think it's going to rain?" He asked, critically eyeing the overcast sky.

Still seated on the stage floor, her head ducked over her guitar, Lexa shrugged her shoulders. "It better not."

"Are we good now?" Monty asked her, gesturing to the replacement amplifier.

Lexa nodded up at him. "Yes, this one is working. Thank you."

"Good," Monty said. Grabbing the faulty amplifier, he turned and walked off the stage, his eyes still glancing worryingly at the grey sky.

Now that she had a working amplifier Lexa had already turned back to her guitar once more, triple checking that it was in tune. She could feel Clarke's eyes on her, watching her every movement. Thinking back to their kiss at the cafe, Lexa felt a heated flush creep up her neck. This time, she had been the one to kiss Clarke, and Clarke had kissed her back.

"Nervous?" Clarke asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Lexa raised an eyebrow at her. "I never get nervous, Clarke."

"Right," Clarke said, sarcasm colouring her voice. "You're an unemotional robot who never feels anything."

Lexa got to her feet. Now at eye level with Clarke, she gave her an appraising look. "Unfeeling, am I?"

Clarke shrugged, trying to bite back a grin. "You were the one who said you never got nervous."

"Not when it comes to music, I don't."

"I threw up from stage fright when I had to do a presentation in high school. That was in front of, like, twenty people." Clarke turned away from Lexa, looking out from the stage. "I don't think I could ever do what you do."

"It's probably better that you don't," Lexa said. When Clarke turned back to look at her, an affronted look on her face, she added, "I'd rather you didn't throw up on our fans."

Clarke poked her tongue out at Lexa, and Lexa felt herself smiling at the childish display. On Clarke it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen.

"Will you be watching us play later?"Lexa asked. Her heart began to beat a little fast as she remembered what she would be doing on this very stage in a few hours; something that she had not done in a very long time. Even Anya and Lincoln had been surprised to hear her request when she had voiced it out loud to them. A part of her desperately wanted Clarke to see her take this step again, yet another smaller part of her was afraid.

"I'll be watching _you_ ," Clarke said, her voice a little huskier than normal.

Lexa let out a shaky breath. "Then perhaps I am a little nervous."

"A robot who feels?" Clarke gasped, pretending to be shocked. "What is happening to the world?"

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

To Monty's great relief the rain never came. Instead, the sun appeared, chasing away the grey clouds and warming the grass below. Once the band started rehearsal Clark had left to grab lunch with Octavia and Raven. She would never admit it but Lexa had been right - Clarke had gotten bored. They returned in time to watch the band's set, somehow managing to find a decent spot on the grass among the crowd of fans.

"We're going to play something new for you guys," Anya said, speaking over the cheers and noise emitting from the crowd. "It's pretty damn fresh, so we might be a little rough." She stepped back from the microphone, looking across at Lexa expectantly.

Normally preferring to write the songs than sing them, Lexa didn't take to the microphone often. Shaking off Octavia, who had been hanging off Clarke in excitement for most of the band's set, Clarke stepped closer towards the stage. She stood up on her tiptoes in the crowd, trying to get a better view of the guitarist.

Lexa cleared her throat, leaning her face into the microphone so close her lips almost brushed the cover. A strand of hair had slipped out from her braids, falling into her face. "This song is about a girl."

The crowd went crazy.

* * *

After the show had finished and they had loaded all their equipment back onto the bus, the crew headed out for dinner. Clarke had found herself seated across from Lexa, occasionally stealing glances at the other woman. She hadn't gotten a chance to talk with Lexa, the bar they were eating at too loud and raucous for quiet conversation. Once dinner had finished, Jasper had rallied a group into going out for post-show drinks. When Clarke saw that Lexa had turned down Jasper with a shake of the head, Clarke decided to head back to the hotel with her.

The bar was only a short walk from their hotel. Clarke and Lexa walked along the quiet and empty street, the fluorescent street lights buzzing above them. Lexa was wearing her sweater again, the hood pulled up over her head. Her head was tilted down, eyes watching the ground as she walked in silence.

"Are you ok?" Clarke asked, sensing that something was amiss.

"Yes," Lexa said. When a frown began to crease Clarke's forehead, Lexa offered her a small smile. "I'm fine, I'm just-"

"Tired?" Clarke finished for her.

Lexa gave a small nod. She looked over at Clarke, smiling when she saw the way Clarke tucked her chin into her coat to protect against the cold. "I'm surprised you didn't go out with your friends."

Octavia and Raven had made an attempt of convincing Clarke to join them for drinks. When they had realised that Clarke wasn't even paying attention, her blue eyes instead transfixed on Lexa, they had conceded defeat. "I can't compete with that," Raven had teased, eyeing Lexa. Her joke had fallen on deaf ears; Clarke had been so distracted by Lexa that she hadn't even heard her.

"I thought you could do with the company," Clarke said. She playfully shoved Lexa's shoulder when she saw the other woman snort. "Shut up, just admit that you like me already."

"Ok," Lexa said, her lips quirked into a smile as they stepped into the hotel.

Clarke began to unbutton her coat, glad for the warmth of the hotel lobby. "Ok, what?" She asked, pressing Lexa for a definitive answer.

Lexa began to walk away from her, headed towards the elevator.

"Ok, what?" Clarke called out to the retreating figure, her voice raised.

"Ok, I like you," Lexa called back, the smile evident in her voice, just as the elevator doors closed behind her.

Standing in the middle of the hotel lobby, coat half-unbuttoned, Clarke grinned to herself.

"Knew it."

* * *

Unable to sleep, and with the most of the others still out drinking, Clarke had found herself wandering aimlessly around the hotel. She hadn't really been intentionally looking for Lexa, but somehow she found her anyway. Lexa was sitting in the emergency stairwell of the hotel. She had her acoustic guitar in her lap and was strumming out the chords to The Beatles' song 'Hey Jude'.

" _Hey Jude, don't let me down_."

Lexa's voice was soft and clear, and as Clarke stared down at her from the steps above she wondered why the guitarist didn't take the lead in singing more. She was amazing.

" _You have found her, now go and get her_."

Clarke quietly walked down the stairs towards Lexa, choosing to take the last four in a single jump. She landed loudly next to Lexa, the sound alerting her to Clarke's presence. Lexa jumped, completely startled.

"Cl-Clarke!" Lexa said shakily, her hand gripping the guitar neck so tightly her fingers went white.

"You have a really nice voice," Clarke said with a smile. She sat down on the step next to Lexa. "Hey Jude is my favourite Beatles' song." Clarke knew her singing voice couldn't hold a candle to Lexa's but she sang the next few lines of the song anyway. " _Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better_."

"It's mine as well," Lexa said. Her breaths were slightly laboured but she seemed to have mostly recovered from her fright.

"Hmm?" Clarke hummed, turning to look at her.

"My favourite Beatles' song."

Clarke smiled at her, her stomach doing a strange flip when she saw Lexa start to smile back.

"That song you sang today, did you write it?" Clarke asked, thinking back to the song Lexa had sung. The song that had been "for a girl". She hadn't been able to pick up the lyrics due to a fan in the crowd next to her screaming her head off.

Lexa nodded at her, turning to examine her guitar. "I write most of the songs, Clarke. I have told you this."

The guitarist wasn't bragging, Clarke realised. It were almost as though she believed Clarke had forgotten the things she had told her.

"I remember," Clarke said, causing Lexa's eyes to snap back to her. "I was just curious about that one song in particular."

"Why?" Lexa asked.

Clarke shrugged. "You sang it."

Lexa's eyes were moving slowly over Clarke's face, as though she were taking in every single detail, memorising every feature. "Yes," she said. "It fit my vocal reach better than Anya's."

There was something in the way Lexa spoke that made Clarke think that she wasn't being completely truthful with her.

"Would you," Lexa paused, hesitating. "Would you like me to sing it for you?"

A slow smile spread across Clarke's face. "I would love that."

Just as the first few notes began to play, they heard the sound of a door above them being flung open. A man raced down the stairs, muttering a quick "excuse me" as he squeezed passed them, headed to the levels below.

Lexa stopped playing, her fingers still against the guitar chords. She was staring down at her feet, lost in thought. Clarke would have done anything to know what the woman was thinking.

"Perhaps another time," Lexa said, getting to her feet without looking at Clarke. She turned and began to make her way up the stairs, guitar in hand.

Clarke watched the woman head towards the stairwell door, disappointment sitting heavy in her chest. "Goodnight, Lexa," she called out, if only to draw out their conversation for a second longer.

Lexa paused, her hand on the doorknob. She turned back to look at Clarke, lips tugged up in a soft smile that reached green eyes. "Goodnight, Clarke."


End file.
